


As the Dragon Wills It

by Ryntaia



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: 1 in the morning fanfiction, Gen, Ka - Freeform, metaphysical stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryntaia/pseuds/Ryntaia
Summary: She is the dragon and a guardian over the fearsome reincarnation of the Priest. And in many ways, the dragon looks to guide him in a life that she cannot physically be part of. In the end all Kisara can hope for is his happiness in this new life.





	As the Dragon Wills It

 

_I am here by your side._

_But only as much as I can be._

 

            She was paper. Thin, fragile, breakable paper. A soul within a laminated trading card, one of only three in the world. It was odd feeling herself next to…herself, that gleaming soul of light that manifested itself into a terrifying dragon. The first time she had stopped being ‘Blue Eyes White Dragon’ and had briefly become ‘Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon’ had filled her with a sense of wholeness that was almost regrettable once the battlefield closed to break her away.

            She was a card, no longer ‘Kisara’ and now a ‘Blue Eyes White Dragon’ as they had called her. A tool of battle capable of protection in the strange world that was their future. She sat faithfully in the holster of the deck of the man who was originally her beloved—originally, but not quite so anymore. The Priest’s presence had always been imposing but never quite so bitter. They shared the same soul but the Priest and his counterpart, this Kaiba Seto man…they were different men.

            Different lives that had been led with different results.

            Kisara was no longer a woman, not even quite a human being, but her senses could still feel and she had dutifully travelled the road of watching over the newest incarnation of the Priest Set. And it had been a troubled road. A lifetime of deceit, abuse, lies, and manipulation that all had to be ignored in lieu of responsibility. A stalwart duty to be the ‘responsible’ one. It was admirable but it had at times been too much for this new Set, this Kaiba—she had watched, wishing she could cry once more, as he had briefly delved into insanity. All she could do was follow and hope for a solution. A piece of paper could do nothing else.

            The Pharaoh had intervened—twice, once even with her latent aid in the only way it could manifest itself. The battlefield of the duelists. It had worked but for months she had sat in an unused and later stolen deck as the Priest’s new incarnation had slipped into a merciless coma. She had felt such pity, such mercy, such a desire to cry…yet underneath it all knew that it had to happen. The Pharaoh, now only known as ‘Yuugi’, had been given little choice.

            She could feel it, though. It pulsated through her every time that her card came to his hand. 

 

             _You are so terribly lonely._

_And yet you do not even know this, do you?_

             _It is not fair!_

 

            There was little she could do to reach out; there was only three pieces of her left in the world and they all sat in the hands of Kaiba Seto. And then luck and chance rolled the dragon woman an opportunity that implanted an idea in her head—Battle City. It was spur of the moment, perhaps even irresponsible in retrospect, but she had to reach somewhere. Even if when she reached out she felt as if she were touching Ka that directly opposed her like oil to water, the black that wrapped around the white yet could never quite engulf it.

            When she was reborn on the field of battle, in the hand of Kaiba’s opposition after Battle City—Jounouchi Katsuya.

            She did not know much of Jounouchi Katsuya besides that Kaiba Seto did not much care for the boy and had functionally gone out of his way to act as a roadblock to the energetic boy. Thousands of years ago, when she was but a frail woman, Jounouchi might have even unnerved and even frightened her—now, though, she was but pure Ka in the arsenal of a successful and talented duelist. The stranger’s mannerisms seemed more childish and compensating now that she looked down on him wordlessly from the massive height of a dragon hologram.

            But they also seemed full of joy.

            The tension that she had felt while under Seto’s control had been relieved as she manifested onto the side of the enemy. Just as she could feel the reincarnation’s stress and frustration, she could also feel the jubilance of this new user. He radiated with an astounded sense of sheer  _happiness_  and  _determination_ , so much more different than the man across from them pursing his lips tightly into a sharp frown. This Ka was foreign, perhaps not even Ka at all, but erratic and unrestrained to oppose the calm and controlled energy she let off.

           

_No, not oppose it._

_Compliment. It compliments that energy._

            Kisara took a small bit of Jounouchi Katsuya’s energy, his Ka, whatever it may be, before she was reclaimed by her long time master.

            It had been irresponsible and she had known it. She knew could have hurt Jounouchi Katsuya, right after he had just been exposed to the sheer will of Ra. It had been the smallest sliver she could manage—and even then, he seemed a bit lethargic later on. Yet even then his energy seemed to not die. As it was taken, that powerful force seemed not to stagnate but rather refresh itself. Kisara was thankful; no matter how petty and bitter the Priest had become in his second life, she would stay true to what he had represented in HER life. And the Priest in her life would not have been pleased at the sacrifice of the innocent for their Ka. She knew that all too well.

            But an unpredictable Ka could yield unpredictable results. She had brought it over, ever so secretly, to permeate Kaiba Seto’s deck with. He interacted with the cards far too much for the energy to be lost; he would spend hours just sorting through them just to discard or add a single new piece to his arsenal. The man was meticulous and it would always mean he would interact with Kisara’s borrowed energy. Even when not in use the deck stayed firmly at the man’s side at all times. To her dismay it did not seem to affect Kaiba Seto much; he still remained tense and stressed, although his bitterness seemed to be slowly alleviating itself through the warm familial love of his younger sibling.

            That, Kisara recalled, was when it got odd.

            He had been casually sorting through the deck—not as much looking to replace anything but more to admire his own cards—and he had set one of her cards down on some of his discarded business sheets. The energy of the paper, she realized, was vibrant with the borrowed energy that she had taken. Unusual lines scrawled across the corner; with a start, she realized that it was a small drawing. A meaningless little drawing that Kaiba’s free hand was working.

            He was a good artist, Kisara noted, and always had been. It was a messy little piece that looked to be the Pharaoh, his Chosen Bride, and the boy with the strange energy that didn’t quite match her own. It wasn’t the same meticulous, properly framed artwork that she had seen him previously indulge in. Rather the drawings were almost like the cartoons watched by the younger of the Kaibas. They looked silly but they radiated that energy, and they radiated happiness.

            And for the first time in a long time she could feel the smallest, most faint tidbit of that happiness burrowed deep within the cold and stressed façade of the Priest’s new self.

 

_He opposes this energy so strongly, yet it seems to bring him a latent joy._

_Perhaps it is only ‘oil and water’ because he forces it to be so._

_Do you want to be with them?_

_With this energy?_

_This…Jounouchi Katsuya…?_

            She had thought of it before, of course. Kisara was no longer living in the traditional sense. She could not be reincarnated like the Priest had been. She would never be a woman full and complete, only a soul within stone and paper. It would be not just cruel to expect his love, but misguided and harmful. She knew this was not the man she had been with—years in his deck had shown her both the similarities and differences. ‘Kaiba Seto’ was not ‘Priest Set’, not entirely. Their base soul was the same but their lives and experiences had differed too much to be the same person. He knew ‘Kisara’ only through memories of the past shown to him…and nothing more.

            And she had known, one day, that this would lead him to possibly feel latent affections for another. She hadn’t expected to be the trigger for it, of course, but this borrowed energy seemed to engulf this new soul so easily. Maybe, she considered, she had not been the trigger at all. Perhaps it had been engulfing him all along. She had never felt Jounouchi Katsuya’s inherent energy before being under his control but it was powerful and overwhelming. Even with how contrasting it was to her own, she had felt a desire to  _have_  it and  _share_  it. And that energy, the energy of this new person, did not deny that desire—it happily seemed and WANTED to be shared. It had gone right into her arms willingly and multiplied as she spread it.

           

             _You have felt this energy, my love, and you have feared it…haven’t you?_

_You don’t understand it. It defies what you have learned in your life._

_…I cannot have that, Kaiba Seto._

_You will NOT be your own barrier._

            She exerted so much of herself that single night, gathering together all of the stolen energy. It came to her as if curious and enthusiastic for her plans. It spread through the fortress that Kaiba Seto dwelled in, ingraining itself into every wall, casting a feeling as if the other duelist was there himself. His presence was far more powerful than others seemed to give him credit for; just this small bit that she had borrowed from him had multiplied and cast itself around confidently.

            And, on Kaiba Seto’s desk as he spoke in quiet tones with a slightly confused blonde, Kisara finally slept and left her duties in the hands of the two men who loomed above the laminated dragon card with their fearsomely complimentary energies reaching out and finally grasping each other timidly.

           

             _Live long, Kaiba Seto, and follow a happier road._

_That is my own wish._

           

            


End file.
